


to be better (i was afraid)

by zhuzhubi



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: (diana), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Makeup, Mentions of Mental Illness, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Break Up, Schizophrenia, Self-Esteem Issues, Somewhat, Unreliable Narrator, hopeful ending!, misunderstanding emotions because people are like that sometimes, negative self-talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28927242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhuzhubi/pseuds/zhuzhubi
Summary: six months after breaking up with spencer, reader is still in love(and so is spencer)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 30





	to be better (i was afraid)

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr @zhuzhubii :)

You don’t know why it’s hitting you now, all of the sudden, after feeling nothing for so long.

You don’t know why you’re here, right here in front of Spencer’s apartment door, now. All of the sudden, after feeling nothing for so long.

This is the point at which you usually have a moment of self reflection, where you usually realize that you actually do know the reason, however much you don’t want to accept it as the truth. But this time you really don’t know, you really don’t know why you’re thinking about him again after almost six months. You were the one who broke up, the one who fell out of love - what right do you have to be standing here outside of his apartment, trying to muster up the nerve to knock on the door?

It would have been your anniversary today. It would have been your fifth anniversary today, maybe that’s why. Maybe it’s because you once had dreams of him proposing to you, because you always imagined you’d be married by now. Or maybe it’s because you miss him, plain and simple. Because you miss the man who used to laugh with you inside of this apartment. Who used to bring you home after nights spent on the town, breath sweet from lemonade and black tea, mind drunk on nothing but love.

Although maybe at this point it doesn’t really matter what brought you here anymore. You’re here, you’re standing here and you have to make a decision - to knock, or not?

You could go home right now, and he’d never even know you were here. It’s the safe choice, the obvious choice, the choice that the logical part of your brain knows is the better option. There are just too many _what if’s?_ involved with knocking. _What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he slams the door in my face? What if he’s not home? Or worst of all - what if he’s not alone?_

And yet, your feet remain stuck to the floor. The good _what if’s?_ run through your mind. _What if he lets me in? What if he wants me back? What if he wants this too?_

Some part of you wants him to know that you were here, that you came, that you didn’t forget about all the good times you had together. You want him to know that you regret it, that breaking up with him was the worst decision you ever made in your life. That it wasn’t his fault, that you packed your things and left while he was away for work because you were too much of a coward to say it to his face. Because you knew he would cry, because you knew he’d be distraught and you selfishly didn’t want to deal with his tears.

Things weren’t great at the end, you admit that. It’s why you left after all. But maybe you should’ve stuck it out for a little longer, maybe you shouldn’t have kicked him while he was down - he was only distant because his mom was going through a rough patch, after all. He was only distant because he was getting bombarded with the ever-present fear of developing schizophrenia himself. 

You were too. Afraid of the possibility, that is. You were afraid of the same things he was, but from the opposite perspective. You didn’t realize it at the time, but you’ve thought long and hard about it over the half-year you’ve been apart - you were afraid he wouldn’t be able to give you the perfect future you’d imagined for yourself. 

He took you to see his mom, that was the moment things started to go downhill. And it’s not like you’d never met his mother before, but…this time it was different. She was having trouble adjusting to a change in her medications, she was in psychosis pretty much every time you saw her over those long two weeks. It was why Spencer needed to go in the first place, it was why he didn’t want you to come. It was why you convinced him that he’d need you there for emotional support.

You wish you hadn’t. You wish you hadn’t because no matter how much you told yourself _odds are this won’t end up happening to him, and even if it does it wouldn’t be like this all the time. This is an episode, I know that. I’ve met Diana before, I know that it isn’t like this the majority of the time_ , you just couldn’t push the thought out of your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of mental illness getting in the way of the future you wanted for yourself, couldn’t stop thinking about fighting with Spencer over taking his medication like he was with his mom.

It scared you. It scared you in a way that the possibility never had before - you knew about the predisposition to schizophrenia, about the history of substance abuse. You knew those things because he told you about them as soon as things started to get serious, because he wanted to give you the opportunity to run. But you didn’t, you squeezed his hands and said _Spencer Reid - I love you and I’ll be here for you always. Those things, those possibilities? We’ll deal with them together if we ever need to, alright?_ You held him as he cried tears of relief over the revelation that you would stick by his side.

Seeing Diana like that just surprised you, it scared you because it felt so sudden and so intense. You would have come to terms with it eventually, would have realized that something like that could happen in any relationship - there’s always the possibility of illness and accidents and trauma. You would have realized that you love him too much to let the fear of the future tear the two of you apart. 

But by then the two of you were already pulling away from each other, were caught in an unrelenting cycle of drawing back as you felt the distance. You should’ve talked to him instead of running away from your problems. You should’ve talked to him because you know that the two of you could have sorted it out. Because you know that if you would’ve just talked about it, you would have realized that love is taking risks, that you love Spencer too much to make him go at life all alone.

Maybe that’s why you’re really here. Because that’s what you did in the end, you ran away and left him alone. Maybe you’re here because you need closure. Because you regret nothing more in your life than leaving like that and you hope you can fix it, or at the very least explain to him why.

_No matter what happens, I’ll always love you_ , you think as you take a deep breath and raise a hand to knock on the door.

…

Spencer doesn’t know why it’s hitting him now, all of the sudden, after he thought he’d come to terms with being alone.

He doesn’t know why he’s sitting alone in his apartment, sipping on an Arnold Palmer with a plastic straw because it reminds him of nights on the town. Why he’s being bombarded with memories of you now, after pushing you out of his mind for so long.

Or maybe he does know why. Maybe it’s because tonight would have been your fifth anniversary. Maybe it’s because the ring he still keeps in his pocket feels heavier than ever before, because he wishes he would’ve had the courage to pop the question before you were gone. Maybe it’s because he misses you, plain and simple. Because he misses the way your bed head looks in the morning, the way you stir as you wake up, the way you used to wrinkle your nose as he pressed a teasing kiss to your lips and you got a whiff of his morning breath.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe he’s just making himself miserable sitting here thinking about his lost love. He has half a mind to pick up his phone and give you a call, but he knows you wouldn’t want to hear from him - you’re the one who broke up, after all. He needs to let you go, he needs to move on - he needs to listen to the rational part of his brain telling him that sitting here moping isn’t achieving anything at all.

But he can’t stop his brain from perseverating on the topic, can’t stop himself from thinking about you and all the good times you had together. The coffee shop and museum dates and obscure film showings, the telescope he bought because you love stargazing so much. He can’t stop himself from remembering how you used to beat him at darts, how he would painstakingly calculate each throw only for you to get a bullseye on your first shot. He can’t stop himself from remembering how warm it felt when he was with you, how peaceful everything always felt in the afterglow, how he felt more comfortable with you than he ever had with anyone else.

He remembers the bad times too, of course he does. He remembers how things were near the end. How things were just before he came home to an empty apartment, when he came home to discover that you were gone. He remembers the letter you left on the counter as if the words are burned into his mind.

_Hi Spencer,_

_I know this is probably coming as a huge shock to you, and for that I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for leaving like this but…I knew if I waited for you to come home I wouldn’t be able to do it. And I need to do this, it’s just not working anymore -_

He crumpled up the note and threw it away after that, thinking through bitter tears _they always leave with a note, everyone always leaves with a note. What is it about me that isn’t worthy of a face-to-face conversation? If you can’t say it to my face, how are you so sure it’s the right thing to do at all?_

Spencer climbed into bed after that, not even bothering to undress as he tucked himself under the covers and stared blankly at the wall. He doesn’t remember much else until dragging himself out of bed three days later on Monday morning, exhausted despite the many hours spent sleeping or doing nothing at all.

He remembers finding the note on the kitchen counter, uncrumpled yet still irreparable creased, slipped into a plastic sleeve to protect against the bacteria from the garbage. He remembers reading the rest of it in a daze then taking a shower and getting ready for work, his eyes staying dry all the while because he had no tears left inside.

He remembers wondering why. Wondering _why, why would you just leave like that? Why would you leave like that knowing that people have done it to me before? I know that things were hard for a while because of my mom, but I thought they were getting better - so why? Why would you…just, why?_

He thought you understood that he was only distant because he was stressed, because he was hurting, because he was worried about one day developing schizophrenia himself. He thought you were just giving him space, space which he appreciated and needed after everything that happened in Las Vegas with his mom. It was only after you left that he realized you were being distant because you were unhappy, because…because he had done something wrong, he assumes.

Spencer’s still hasn’t managed to work out _what_ exactly he did wrong, but he has a few theories that he thinks have sufficient supporting evidence (though he’s still uncertain, due to the inherent uncertainty in judging human emotions, motivations, and relationships):

1) You assumed that his distance meant dissatisfaction on his part, which in turn led to dissatisfaction on your side. While technically possible, Spencer finds this to be unlikely due to the length of and past experiences within your romantic relationship with him - he expressed similar behavior early on in your relationship because a case brought up past trauma, and you seemed to understand that he just needs space sometimes. In fact, you specifically told him you understood that he needs space to process things sometimes. So on second consideration, theory 1 doesn’t seem very viable, though it could still hold some weight because people sometimes act in unpredictable and/or contradictory ways.

2) You were frightened or shocked by his mother’s condition because you hadn’t witnessed a psychotic episode before. This theory is the most viable in Spencer’s opinion because he, admittedly, did not prepare you very well for what you were about to see. Especially considering that, in the past, he’d only taken you to see his mother during periods wherein her doctors were able to keep her condition particularly well-controlled. Although on his part, he was a bit preoccupied with his mother at the time, and he often forgets that his experience growing up goes against the norm.

3) You simply fell out of love and it had little to do with Spencer as a person. To be completely honest, Spencer finds this theory extremely unsettling and tries not to think about it too much. The idea that someone could simply wake up one day and decide that they don’t love him anymore is just too frightening (and reminds him too much of his father), so he really hopes he’s wrong.

On the other hand, although he is still very upset and hurt about you leaving, he can’t really blame you all that much. He’s far from the ideal boyfriend, what with his rambling and awkwardness and neurosis. In combination with his past opiate addiction and the possibility of future psychosis, he really shouldn’t have been so shocked. It was only logical that you would want to find a more suitable significant other. 

Perhaps you somehow found out about his intentions to propose and decided that it would be easier on everyone if you just left instead of humiliating him with a public denial. He still would have appreciated a heads-up, but maybe he should be grateful that you didn’t let him embarrass himself. Although, on the other hand, maybe he deserved to be embarrassed for thinking that he was even close to being good enough for someone like you -

A soft _rap rap rap_ echoes through the apartment and it takes Spencer a moment to realize that someone is knocking on the door. He just blinks at it for a moment, but then the soft _rap rap rap_ comes a second time - he scrambles to hit feet and rushes over to peer through the peephole, his heart nearly stopping in his chest when -

…

The door opens in one swift motion, and then there he is looking back at you - those gentle brown eyes you’ve missed so much. He looks confused, he rubs his eyes like he’s not entirely convinced that this is real - you expected that, though. It’s not every day that the ex you thought you’d never see again just shows up at your door.

“Hi,” you whisper after a pause, the syllable coming out short and breathy and you try to gather your thoughts.

He gapes for a moment, his fingers worrying at his collar as he stammers out, “…H-hi. Um, what…what are you doing here?”

You still don’t really know what to say to that, so you just swallow nervously and glance behind him, averting your eyes as you mumble, “Can I, um…can we talk? Inside?”

“Um. Um, yeah sure. I guess so,” he says, standing there awkwardly and staring at you before finally sucking in a breath and stepping aside so that you can come in.

You can’t help but look around once you make it in, taking in the way that his apartment looks pretty much the same as it did before. You left a lot of your non-essentials with him, though you’re not really sure why. Maybe you knew deep down that you were making a bad decision, maybe you just wanted him to have something to remember you by.

Either way, Spencer leads you over to the couch and sits down next to you - the two of you subconsciously take the same spaces you always did before. But it’s awkward now, things feel a little foreign between the two of you. You’re not sure if he wants you in his space, if he wants to be having this discussion, or if he’s just humoring you.

“So, um,” he starts, “…what did you want to talk about?”

“I…,” you trail off before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart, “Six months ago, I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left like that, I knew it would hurt you and I am…I’m so sorry Spencer. I guess I just…I wanted to explain to you what was going through my head, because you deserve an explanation if you want one.”

He just swallows and looks away, worrying at his lip and bouncing his leg in the way he always does when he’s nervous. You almost reach out to comfort him before you remember to stop yourself - you don’t have that right anymore.

“It’s um,” he mumbles, “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me -”

“Spencer,” you cut him off, “Do you _want_ an explanation?”

It’s so funny how you can read him just like you could before, just like you could before your mind got clouded by fear and catastrophizing the situation. He tenses and you know that he does - that he’s trying to decide if he should say no for your sake, even though he wants to say yes. And you don’t know what makes you do it, but you reach over to place a hand on his thigh - he looks up at you in surprise, half-flinching away before letting out a sigh and relaxing under your palm. He nods.

You take a deep breath because he deserves for this to be good, he deserves to understand, to know why. “I ran away because…because I was afraid of the future. I mean, I’d started dreaming about getting married to you -”

The words shock you because they weren’t what you thought would come out, they weren’t what you thought you were afraid of. But then you realize that they’re true, that even after being together for so long -

“I was afraid of being in love. And I know that sounds silly because we were together for four-and-a-half years and I loved you all along, but…I don’t know, I…,” you trail off.

All of the sudden Spencer reaches over and takes your hand in his, squeezing just like he always does when you’re nervous, just like he always did before. It gives you the confidence to look up at him, to see the compassion in his eyes despite everything that’s happened between the two of you. It gives you the confidence to continue on.

“We went to Las Vegas to help your mother, and when I saw her like that I realized that I didn’t care about having a picture-perfect life with you. I didn’t _care_ about having the perfect family I’d dreamed of as a child, that I thought I wanted - I loved you more than I’d ever loved the hypothetical. I loved you more than I ever thought I’d love anyone, and…

“Back when you first told me about your mom and about the substance abuse disorder, I thought _I love him so much in spite of the things in his past, in spite of the things that are hard_. And then when I saw your mother going through a hard time, and I saw how much you love her _because_ of who she is and not in spite of it - I realize that I love you that way too. I realized that I wasn’t afraid of helping you manage psychosis if it ever came to that, I wasn’t afraid of getting you the help you needed if you ever relapsed. And it was… _so scary_ that I loved someone that much.

“And then I left because…because I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to do it. And that was…such a shitty thing for me to do to you. You didn’t deserve that, I should’ve talked to you. I…I just -”

“I forgive you,” he interrupts, shocking you both. He furrows his brow at his own words, tangling his hand with yours in an unconscious gesture as he stammers, “O-or, maybe I don’t yet. I think…I think I’ll be able to, though. Um, eventually? I-it’s just that I…I understand why you did it, I’m just still hurt by it so I don’t know if I’m ready to -”

“Spencer you’re not obligated to forgive me -”

“No!” he yelps, whirling around to face you and shaking his head, “No, I…I want to. I _want_ to forgive you, I just need time. I love you too. I want…I _want_ to be with you.”

He gasps at the words, at the way he says them in present tense. You do too - you weren’t expecting forgiveness or even understanding. Spencer is notorious for holding grudges and for being incredibly slow to forgive - the fact that he’s even suggesting that he might forgive you, that he’s saying that he loves you? It’s incredible, to say the least.

You realize that you’ve been silent for too long when he nervously continues, “U-unless…that’s not what you were getting at…? Oh god, I’m so sorry - you probably just wanted to tell me so that you can move on, forget I said anything -”

“Spencer, Spencer!” you grip his palm, “I want to be with you, too. If you want to try again that’s…that would be perfect.”

And then grins like the little shit he is and replies, “I thought you didn’t want perfect.”

You playfully glare at him just like you always do, smacking him lightly on the arm before bursting into laughter. And then he laughs too.

The laughter turns into tears eventually - half happy and half from the emotional rollercoaster of the past six months. Spencer pulls you into his chest and runs his fingers through your hair while you press a kiss to his cheek, running a hand over the layer of stubble.

You both know that you have a lot of work to do, that Spencer meant it when he said he’d need time to forgive you. You both know that making it work will be difficult for a while, that it’ll take time to re-acclimate to one another. But right now you’re crying and laughing and holding each other, you’re understanding each other in the way no one else can. This is your perfectly imperfect life together, and you’d never trade it for anything else.


End file.
